Compass
by Hylian Shadow
Summary: Sequel to Masquerade. Four directions and a center. Four masks and a hero. As the Carnival approaches, Link decides his masks deserve a little freedom, or at least as much freedom as he can give them.
1. South: Woodfall

_Author's notes: Well, "Masquerade" was originally meant as a one-shot, but the idea is just too intriguing to leave alone. This story is a five part sequel to/expansion upon Masquerade._

_Spoilers for _Majora's Mask.

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"The swamp, mountain, ocean, and canyon Tael was trying to tell us about... I bet he was referring to the four areas just outside of town. There's one in each compass direction."

_"South of town lies Woodfall Swamp. Be careful."_

**Compass**

**South -- Woodfall Swamp**

"Come on, men, put your backs into it! Do you want to get this built or not?"

The carpenters are busily working on this year's festival tower. The air is full of the sounds of hammers and saws, and above it all, Mutoh yelling.

"You don't have any excuse this year -- we're going to finish this tower; do you hear me?"

Link kicks his feet in the air and watches them work from his seat on the laundry pool ramp. Four days left until the Carnival begins, and travelers are already pouring into town. He can feel the excitement building in the air.

Nothing like last year. Last year, an uneasy tension permeated everything and everyone. He remembers it, especially how unnerving it was at first. It never really stopped being noticeable; he just reached the point where he was too distracted by his own troubles to notice. He looks up at the sky, the beautiful clear blue moon-free sky.

A year, give or take three or six or however many days. That's how long he has been in Termina. He's taller now, taller and bigger. He taps his well-worn boots against the ramp. He needs new ones, really. These are barely holding together anymore, and they're getting a little tight, too.

It's weird, thinking about growing up, probably because he's been an adult in all but body for a long time. (Well, he's been an adult in body, too, but he's not, not anymore.) Link doesn't understand. He carries a sword -- and he knows how to use it -- so the guards see him as an adult. Most of the people treat him like an adult, a little adult. Even so, he knows they still call him a kid and talk about things like how much he's grown and how strange he is.

Is he a child or an adult? He's not even sure he knows.

Link sighs and stands up; the clock chimes midday. He should get moving if he's going to get Koume that paint this afternoon... especially since he isn't sure if she expects him to repaint that sign for her or not.

The trip to the swamp is uneventful. Of course, it is; there's nothing dangerous except for a few Chus, and those are so pathetically easy to avoid or destroy that he doesn't even see them as threats anymore. It isn't long before the humidity rises and the smells of mud and plants and damp reach him. The only noticeable change is how faded the paint on the Information Center's sign is. (Time passes. Time changes _everything._)

_Home._

"Ah, there you are!" Koume calls, flying over and taking the flask of paint. She gives it a good once-over. "Wonderful; wonderful! Now we can get that sign all fixed up! Thanks, kid!" She grins. "So, what do I owe you?"

Considering she gave him more than enough Rupees to buy the paint and told him to keep whatever was left, she doesn't owe him anything. "Nothing."

"Oh, ho! I should give you _something_, Link. After all, you made a special trip all the way out here just to get an old lady her paint." She winks. "I have to give you something, even if it's just another cruise. There's another pictograph contest going on right now, you know. Maybe you should enter."

Koume doesn't owe him anything, and he'd feel guilty for taking any reward from her for something so simple, but -- _home home home home HOME --_ it has been a while since he's been to the swamp.

"Okay."

Which is why he's standing just inside the entrance to the Deku Palace a little while later, holding the Deku mask. Its thoughts are stronger now. _Home home home I'm home I'm home!_

"Yes, you're home," Link says softly, sliding the mask on. It's easier to talk this way, and the humidity isn't nearly as suffocating to a Deku.

_Sorry_, comes the tiny squeak in the back of his mind.

"It's okay. Is there something you want to do?"

_This is fine._

"Are you sure?"

_Yeah._

It isn't that simple. There's something the Deku wants that it isn't willing to admit. Link doesn't press, though. Instead, he leans back against the cool wall and feels the sun filtering down through the trees, warm and gentle as it soaks into his wooden skin. Nearby, a couple of scrubs are busily painting over the ornate designs that loop and whirl across the palisade, brightening the faded colors.

It's a little weird, he thinks. The Deku are made of wood, yet the palace is made of wood.

_Not all trees are Deku. Some trees are just trees. We only use not-Deku trees to build. _

Not-Deku trees? That implies there are Deku trees, but is that so? He admits he knows little about this sort of thing, but scrubs aren't trees.

_No, no. Scrubs aren't trees._ Nothing more.

Link watches the scrubs paint a little longer, and then he starts hopping from one lilypad to another. A year ago, he stopped moving only when forced to by an obstacle or his own exhausted body; it's a habit he hasn't entirely broken.

_Moon is gone,_ the Deku whispers. Link isn't sure it even means for him to hear. _Evil moon is gone forever_.

"Yeah, it's gone," he says in as soft a voice as his Deku body can muster. "You and me and Darmani and Mikau... we stopped it."

It's embarrassed. _I didn't do much._

"You did enough." A thought strikes him. Has he really never asked this before? "What's your name?"

A long pause, long enough that Link wonders if maybe he's said something wrong -- part of him is confused, surprised, happy -- but then the Deku answers.

_We don't tell our names to just anyone._

"Oh, sorry."

_My name is Oakin._

"Oakin." The name sounds perfectly normal in a Deku voice; Link has a feeling that it's going to sound weird to his human ears. "So, Oakin, what do you want to do? There's nowhere we have to be, so..."

_Th-this is fine._

Link hops to the next lilypad. It's still a very strange motion, one he's not entirely comfortable with, bouncing off the surface of the water. Part of his human mind is screaming that the water won't hold him, that he's going to sink, that he's going to _drown_ (shouldn't he be used to this by now?), even as part of Oakin's mind wonders what drowning is. He doesn't drown, of course. Instead, his stubby little Deku feet bounce off the almost-spongy, resistant-yet-yielding surface of the water and find the soft, slightly-bobbing, strangely _solid_ surface of the lilypad.

Link feels what he's looking for, waiting for: a wistful sigh, the breeze rustling through leaves.

And that's when he lets go.

"Link?" It's Oakin speaking, using the voice the two of them share, the voice that is so much more Oakin's than Link's. "What are you --?"

_Do what you want to, Oakin._

Hopeful and needy and... nervous? "Anything?"

_Anything._

Oakin squeaks happily, and they're off, bouncing rapidly from pad to pad. It's a completely different motion now, one that's as natural for Oakin as walking is for Link and much, much faster than the hero can _ever_ go when he's the one in control.

Link pulls back as Oakin dashes into the palace. Even as close as they are like this, everyone deserves a little privacy.

Enough still bleeds through the mental link to give him some idea of how Oakin spends the afternoon. He finds his father, and they race and talk and race some more. Then he escorts the Deku Princess up to Woodfall Temple for some kind of official business. He enjoys himself.

The last of the twilight is fading when Link finds himself back on the boat and back in control. "Did you have fun, Oakin?"

_Yeah! Thanks, Link. Thanks a lot._

For a moment, they ride in silence.

_When a Deku dies... he doesn't really die -- not like humans do, anyway. He puts down roots and goes to sleep, and his body becomes a tree. Like that one right over there._

Link follows the mental nudge and sees a small tree. It looks just like any other tree, until he looks a bit closer and sees the face, eyes closed in peaceful slumber, near the roots.

"So you can still see their faces if you look..." That's how the Deku know which is which. Normal trees don't have faces.

_Yeah. And if the tree can get big enough -- tall enough to reach the sky! -- a scrub will sprout from its roots. That's what Dad says._

"Not like humans at all," Link says. All he really knows about dying is that people _die._ Impa said once that the dead go on to dwell in peace, if they are only given the chance. He doesn't know exactly what that peace is. He hasn't really seen many peaceful spirits before -- the few he's seen have faded away not long after he put them at ease.

_Dad says that while our bodies grow to the sky, we go to a giant meadow and that all of our friends are there waiting for us._

Something like that, maybe. He remembers coming close to dying -- only a few times but still too many -- and hearing a woman calling his name. Not screaming or yelling, not panicking, just calmly, gently calling for him. Maybe someday he'll find out who she is. He's in no hurry.

The boat rounds a corner; he can see Koume flying slow circles around the Information Center, her broom glowing with magical light. She must be waiting for him.

_Sorry I took so long..._

"No. You had fun, right? That's all that matters." He reaches up, finding the edge of the mask but not taking it off just yet.

_Can... can we do that again sometime, Link?_

He grins -- at least as well as he can as a Deku. "Sure."

_Thank you!_

He pulls the mask off -- Koume's looking for him, after all, not Oakin -- and slides it (reverently) into his pack. The last impression he gets from the mask before he lets go is that of quiet contentment.

"Ho ho ho! There you are, kid!" Koume flies over and escorts the boat to the dock. "We were starting to think you'd gone off and gotten lost somewhere."

He feels bad; he doesn't like making anyone worry. "I'm fine," he says, because he is.

"Then let Koume see the pictograph you took."

Pictograph? Oh, right, that contest. He doesn't have one -- honestly, he never thought about it once he was on the boat, on the move -- but he pulls his Picto-box out just the same.

"Why are you so interested in this, Koume?" he asks as she takes the device. "I didn't think you really cared much for pictographs."

She winks. "Oh, I don't, but I've got 50 Rupees riding on you winning the contest."

Koume is a strange, strange woman, Link thinks. Even stranger than the Koume he met in Hyrule as an adult (and her crazy sister, too; he can't forget Kotake), and considering Twinrova wanted nothing more than to kill him...

_She's scary._

"Oh, _ho_! How'd you get such a lovely picture? You'll win for certain with this!" She cackles happily.

What's she talking about? "Uh, thanks." He's confused, but she just hands his back his Picto-box and turns to leave.

"Now that I know you're all right, I should probably get home. Wouldn't want to make Kotake worry too much. Ah, yes, and thank you again for getting that paint for me!"

Link watches her fly away, and then he walks over to one of the torches so he can see the pictograph now that her light is gone.

The pictograph is of Oakin and the Deku Princess, both in mid-hop between lilypads near Woodfall Temple, taken by an unknown third person. The two Deku are clearly enjoying themselves; he thinks they might be racing.

_I let her win._

Link carefully puts the Picto-box back in his pack and then looks up at the starry sky above. The evil, scowling moon is gone; the only moon is the sliver of a crescent hanging low in the western sky. Termina is safe, he reminds himself. Everyone is safe now.

He thinks of the carpenters working on their tower and the Deku repainting their palace and the sleeping tree slowly stretching its limbs up into the sky. He's been dreading the Carnival because he's afraid of the memories it has for him. But, he thinks as he starts down the road leading towards Clock Town, back towards the center, maybe he's focusing too much on what happened before and ignoring the present.

The Carnival is almost here. He's older (physically) and taller (a bit), and he's made a new friend today. He should be happy. Oakin is.

And he thinks of the other masks riding in his pack. There's an idea: he'll spend the days leading up to the Carnival retracing his quest to stop Majora -- only _this_ year, he's looking not to free the trapped Giants but to, at least to an extent, free the souls trapped in his masks.

Oakin isn't the only one who deserves a day to do what he wants.

Link grins as the South Gate comes into view. That's exactly what he's going to do. He's already been to the swamp, so next is the mountains of Snowhead.

But first, first he needs a new pair of boots.


	2. North: Snowhead

_Author's note: Darmani is harder to write than I thought he'd be. _

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**Compass  
North - Snowhead Mountains  
**

_The mountains of Snowhead lie this way. Be careful._

The mountains are peaceful, filled with the gentle sound of the river and the occasional bird-song, and in the distance, the sound of cheering.

Is there a race today?

_...warm._

It is; it's well into spring now. Link watches a butterfly lazily flutter past before finding a place to sit down near the water. The swamp is nice and green and reminds him of the forest, but he likes the mountains, too. It's peaceful up here. Calm and quiet like he remembers Death Mountain being, but with grass and the river.

And no volcano. Then again, he does remember lava in Snowhead Temple somewhere, so maybe he's not as far from volcanoes as he thinks. Still, Death Mountain is fiery, while Snowhead is... _not._ And yet somehow, the mountains have a similar feel to them.

He doesn't really understand.

_Homesick?_

He wouldn't put it that way. It's a weird thing to think about, but... for a while right after the moon was destroyed, right after last year's Carnival, he tried to find a way back to Hyrule but didn't find one. At some point, he stopped looking, and even now he's in no hurry to find a way back. He isn't sure if it's because he's convinced that he can't go home, or if it's more that he doesn't _want_ to go home.

Or maybe it's more that to him, Termina is more of a home than Hyrule was. After all, in Hyrule, he's torn between the Kokiri -- the people he grew up with, people who will never grow up -- and the Hylians -- the people he belongs with, people who see him as a child. Too old for one home, too young for another... he doesn't fit in anywhere, there.

In Termina, at least... while he's still not really an "adult" (then again, didn't Cremia say he's an adult now?), most people treat him like enough of one. He carries a sword, after all; that apparently means he's not a child anymore. They're right about that. He isn't a child and hasn't been for a long, long time.

That should probably bother him more than it does, shouldn't it?

_Heavy thoughts..._

He sighs. He shouldn't be thinking about this kind of thing. He's supposed to be making Darmani feel better, not sitting here making himself feel worse.

Link shakes his head and pulls on the Goron Mask, making himself (well, himself-as-Darmani, really) more comfortable on the grass.

_Some times you have to think the heavy thoughts, Link. No matter how painful they may be, it is for the best. Chip away at the weight little by little, and one day the weight will be gone._

"Really, Darmani?"

_Yes. It won't be easy, and it will take time, but one day it will trouble you no more._

He sighs. There's just something about those words. He knows they're true, but there's something else, too, something that makes him remember Death Mountain even more.

_What's wrong?_

"You sound like Darunia..." he murmurs. Maybe there's just something that all great Goron leaders have.

_I don't know that name. Tell me about this Darunia._

And so he does. He talks about meeting the stubborn Darunia and retrieving the Spiritual Stone of Fire. He tells how Darunia went to face the dragon Vovolgia without the Megaton Hammer, and how in the end the Goron leader turned out to be the Sage of Fire.

He leaves out the part where Darunia named his son Link; that's a bit embarrassing.

_Embarrassing? He thinks well enough of you to give your name to his son. There is nothing embarrassing about that. That is an honor._

Link reaches up and rubs at his cheek absently. Honor? Maybe. It's still embarrassing. He doesn't really see himself as some great hero. He just does what he has to.

Darmani chuckles. _And that, Link, is why you deserve more honor than you receive._

That's not why he's here, though. "And what about you? I didn't come up here so I could bury you with heavy thoughts."

_Perhaps I don't mind. After all, I'm much stronger than you are. I don't mind sharing your burden._

"Still... That's not why I came here. I came here so you could have a day to do whatever you want. I know it's not much, but... I want to give you something."

_I don't need anything, Link._

"I know you don't need anything, but..." He takes a deep breath and then lets go entirely. _I want to give you what I can..._

"Very well," Darmani says; Link feels him (them) stand and stretch. "It's been a while since I could just walk around."

Walk around? That's all Darmani wants? Link had thought the Goron would want to go racing.

Darmani laughs. "There is a time for excitement, and there is a time to just enjoy the scenery. Have you ever really looked around? There is much to be seen if you only take the time to seek it out."

He doesn't really understand. Darmani can do anything he wants today, and all he wants to do is just walk around? And that's what he does, too, walking leisurely around the mountains, stopping to look at some flowers here and an interesting rock there, and seemingly just enjoying the nice weather. Link decides to pull back further and give Darmani as much privacy as he can.

It's nearly sunset when he shifts his mind forward again; Darmani is sitting near the river again, looking up at the sky. The impression Link gets from him is that of peaceful contentment.

_Are you sure you don't want to go back to the village?_

"I no longer belong there, Link. Do not forget that when you met me, I was already dead." Darmani says that simply, calmly (eerily). "I've had the time to come to terms with that."

Link sighs. That's true, of course. He met Darmani when he eased the warrior's spirit... after Darmani had been killed by Goht. _Then you should be at rest, shouldn't you? _This isn't rest. Link isn't quite sure what this is, but it isn't rest. _I should give your mask back to --_

"No."

_What?_

"If you give the mask back to my people, what will I do? They will treasure it and give it a place of honor, and they will never touch it again. In time, Link, they will forget about me. That is how things are."

Time. Everything always comes down to time, doesn't it? (Looping, folding, flowing, but never, _ever_ stopping.) _...but is staying with me any better?_

Darmani chuckles. "The very fact that you feel the need to ask that is all the proof I need that it is."

_What do you mean?_

"You care enough to ask my opinion. Therefore, to you, I'm not dead yet."

_But I --_

"You don't have to understand, Link. I don't understand what has happened either, but perhaps we aren't meant to understand such things. What matters is that we are here, and that through one means or another, we are alive."

_Yeah... we are. _There isn't anything Link can say after that. He knows Darmani has a point, and really, does it matter? _As long as you don't feel trapped because of what I did._

"You saved Snowhead. You saved my people. You saved all of Termina. I am honored that I have been able to fight with you this far. I would be even more honored to travel further with you and aid you as I can." Darmani looks up at the darkening sky and the first bright stars appearing in it.

The stars are familiar, oddly so. It's been a year since Link stopped the moon, and he doesn't remember how long he spent in that three day loop (he remembers all of them, so does that mean he aged through them?). These stars are almost as familiar to him as the stars back in Hyrule... though he doesn't know the names of any of the constellations here.

Darmani chuckles. "I can tell you some of them, if you wish."

_Only if you want to. I don't want to bother you..._

"It doesn't bother me at all. I've missed having someone to tell the stories to." He points up at a circle of stars low in the sky. (It's a lot easier to point something out to someone looking through the same eyes.) "See that circle? That is the Great Goron, an ancient hero. He spends every night rolling across the sky, watching over us."

_The Great Goron?_

"Yes. It's been so long that none remember his name. Once, long, long ago even by the way we Gorons measure time, a giant came to Snowhead and wanted to claim the lands for himself. The villagers tried as best they could to convince the giant to leave or to at least leave the village alone, but the giant refused. He gave the villagers until dusk of a certain day to be out, or he would drive them out himself.

"That day came, but not everyone left. The Great Goron climbed onto the highest slope along the path to the village and curled up, waiting. When the giant passed by, he rolled down the slope as fast as he could, flying down the slope and slamming into the giant's head, killing him. But in his death throes, the giant knocked the Great Goron high into the sky, so high that he disappeared into its depths. The giant was gone and the village safe, but no one ever saw the Great Goron again.

"Yet as the villagers all gathered to celebrate the giant's defeat, some of them noticed a circle of stars where there had been none before. The giant knocked him so high, it seemed, that he joined the stars themselves. He is still there, still watching."

Link thinks about that. A hero rising to the stars, a story passed down for generations... _Do you think they'll tell stories about you, too? After all, you're the one who saved Snowhead._

Darmani shakes his head. "No, I am not. There is no one person who saved Snowhead, Link. You and Oakin and myself; we are the ones who saved Snowhead. Though perhaps it's better this way... because no matter what they think the details may be, the truth is that they are safe now, and everyone knows that."

_I guess you're right..._ It doesn't matter if anyone knows what happened, or even if anyone realizes that the world has been saved at all, so long as the world is safe.

And the world _is_ safe, and it has been for almost a year now.

Destiny hasn't decided to call on him a third time... at least not yet. He wonders if it will. After all, Destiny needed him as an adult before; it's entirely possible that somewhere out there is another world that needs saving.

_Um, Darmani...? What are you going to do now?_

"I should be the one asking you that, Link."

_Well... I'm going to go out to the Bay next. _He wants to fidget, but a mind can't. Link is pretty sure Darmani can sense it just the same.

Darmani laughs. "I mean after that. After the Carnival, what will you do? Are you going to stay here, or are you going to go home?"

_Neither._

"Oh?" The Goron shifts, laying down on the soft, soft grass and curling into a ball. "Then where will you go?"

_Wherever the road takes me. That's worked for me so far._

"So it has. You won't mind company, will you? I've never been beyond Termina's borders before."

Link thinks about that. He wants to stay in Termina -- he feels almost like he belongs here, moreso than in Hyrule, anyway -- but he doesn't want to stay put. He's been wandering for too long to stop now.

_Do you want to go?_

"Only if you wish to, Link. I don't want to force anything on you; you've had more than enough of that already."

_But what about you now? I mean, is there anything else you want to do?_

Darmani chuckles again; Link gets a strong sense of comfort and peace and he thinks the Goron is tired. "I want to sleep here."

He understands. Here, in the mountains, near the Goron village. _Okay. Then, um... goodnight. _And he pulls back again.

He wakes up to the sound of the river and the feel of a mountain breeze. It's a beautiful morning. Link sits up and stretches, nudging something on the ground next to him. It's Darmani's mask, but he doesn't remember taking it off. Maybe Darmani did. Link isn't quite sure how that could be possible, but... well, he's seen too many strange things to really be worried about that. (After all, isn't he sharing his body with them all now?)

For a while, he just sits there, looking around at the mountains. He can't help but wonder how different things would be if he had never come to Termina. He hopes Navi is okay, wherever she is, though she probably is. After all, she always seemed to understand things better than he did... She's still alive out there; he knows it.

Maybe this was all supposed to work out like this.

Link finally climbs to his feet and gently (respectfully) puts the Goron Mask back in his pack. It's pretty here, but he really should be going. He'll just have to come back sometime, hopefully on another pretty day. For now, though, he (they) shrugs his pack into place and heads for the path back down the mountain.

Darmani is right; he feels like a little bit of the weight is gone now.


	3. West: Great Bay

**Compass  
West - The Great Bay**

_From Great Bay, you can see clear to the ocean. It lies this way. Be careful._

When the wind blows from the west, the western part of Termina Field smells like sand and sea-salt. As luck has it, that's the way the wind is today, so he smells the Bay long before he can see it.

Everywhere else in Termina reminds him of places back in the home that isn't his home anymore. The swamp is like the woods, the mountains, well, the mountains, and when he can ignore the strange, lingering emptiness and sadness that fills the Canyon (which isn't often), it's almost but not quite like the desert and the Gerudo's Fortress.

The closest thing he can come up with is Lake Hylia, but... the lake is nothing compared to the Bay. The lake only stretches so far; he remembers being able to see the water's edge on the other side.

_Yo!_

He stops, his boots sinking slightly into the sand he just now realizes he's reached. He's done that a lot the last few days, hasn't he? Link sighs. He's lucky there haven't been monsters (what monsters?) taking advantage of that.

He shakes his head to clear it and walks to the edge of the water. It's almost like he can see forever; the water stretches out to the horizon and probably beyond that. Even out at the temple in the Bay, there's nothing but sky beyond the water. It's completely unlike anything in Hyrule, limitless and more than a little daunting.

_You say that like it's somethin' bad._

He doesn't think it's bad, just... different. When he looks at the Bay, he can't help feeling like it's staring back at him. Maybe it is.

Link kicks at the water, watching it sparkle in the sunlight, and then looks across the shore. There's no one here. He might as well go ahead and put on the Zora Mask, so he does.

_'Course not. They're probably all out fishin'._

Oh, right. He isn't sure why, maybe because the first time he was here, the sea was in such bad shape no one dared go too far from shore, but he never really thinks of people going fishing here. Maybe he can go fishing sometime.

_Your way or my way?_

Link laughs at that. "We can do it your way if you want, Mikau. It's your turn."

_Yeah, yeah, you say that like I want a turn._

"Don't you?" It isn't right to skip him, Link knows. Oakin and Darmani both got their turns, after all, even if Darmani did have a seemingly weird way to spend his.

_Everythin' 'bout Darmi is weird. You know that; I know that; no surprise at all._

There's a soft, rumbling laugh from somewhere deep in Link's head.

_Yeah, I know you hear me. _

"Um, Mikau, what do you want to do?" Link wants to change the subject before Mikau and Darmani start an argument (wait, since when could he hear Darmani laughing at all?).

_Huh?_

"It's your turn," he repeats. "What do you want to do?"

Mikau doesn't answer at first. He doesn't answer for a while, actually. Link is just about to ask if he's okay when Mikau finally says, _I dunno_.

"Is there anyone you want to see?"

_Well, when you put it like that, there's someone, yeah._

"Okay," Link says, taking a breath and letting himself go. _Then go see her._

Mikau starts stretching. "Hey, how'd you know it was a _her_?"

Link grins to himself as much as one can as just a mind. There's only one 'someone' Link can think of, and since Mikau said some_one_ instead of the band, then it has to be her.

"C'mon, how'd you know?"

_I just kind of knew. _

Mikau laughs. "I guess I'm wearin' off on you." And with that, he leaps into the Bay and heads off towards his goal, flying through the crystal clear water. Link pulls back and takes the chance to just rest.

The next thing Link is aware of is the sunset painting sky and sea alike in reds and oranges and of a slow, gentle guitar melody. He doesn't recognize this part of the shore. Where are they?

"We're in my private spot."

_Oh. Did you have fun?_

Mikau laughs softly (nostalgic and bittersweet). "Yeah, I had a good day." He strums his guitar, continuing his song. "Time to go, little dude?"

_No, not yet. It's late enough that we might as well stay here_. He likes the sound of waves, after all. Lake Hylia has waves sometimes -- or he remembers it did, anyway -- but it's nothing like this. The waves are ever-present but gentle, sweeping against the shore...

"I knew you'd get to like the place if you had the chance," Mikau says with another laugh. "So much awesomely better than those boring mountains or that lame canyon."

Link doesn't quite agree with that. Each part of Termina has its own beauty, and he can't really compare them to each other. The Bay is nice, though. He can definitely agree with that.

"Hey, Link?"

_Yeah?_

"What's so special about this lake of yours?"

Link tries to explain it, but he isn't sure how well he does. Lake Hylia is important to Hyrule, yes, but sitting here on the edge of what seems like endless water makes any description he can give of the lake seem tiny. Still, he hopes he's explaining it well.

"You've traveled a lot. Doncha ever get homesick?"

_I don't really have a home._ (And yet he'll risk everything to save the world that denies him that.) He tries to explain it, but he doesn't really understand it himself. He's Hylian. He should be at home around other Hylians, right? He should belong with his own kind...

Mikau laughs a little at that thought. "I've got the blood of Zoran heroes, remember? The big ol' turtle even called us 'Zora hero' when we went to the Temple... though okay, he was probably talkin' more to you than me. The Gorons all think Darmi's some kinda hero, too. Maybe we heroes gotta stick together."

_But--_

"But nothin', little dude." The guitar's music is slowing down, gaining a sadder edge. "This ain't what I expected from an afterlife. I always thought it'd be a ton more borin', but look at me. Seein' the world, helpin' people... If not for bein' away from the band, this'd be perfect."

Link can't help feeling a bit guilty at that.

Mikau sighs. "Man, you just gotta make me remember makin' a fool of myself, doncha? The gulls were just waitin' for me to give up. I still haven't paid you back, little dude."

_You don't owe me anything._

"Oh, c'mon. You dragged my sorry butt to shore. And..." the music falters for a moment, "I remember what you did on the shore. I really owe you for that."

_No, you don't. I did it because I wanted to._

Mikau doesn't say anything at first; he goes back to his music. "Yeah, maybe. But for someone you never met? I didn't think anyone could be that nice a guy. You're cool, Link."

Link doesn't know what to say. He didn't do any of that for a reward, just because it was the right thing to do. It's kind of embarrassing to be thanked for that.

"How's it embarrassin'? Someone thanks you, you say you're welcome. Simple as that."

_No, it isn't._

"Uh, yeah, it is."

_But --_

"Seriously, little dude. I'm not sayin' it just 'cause. I mean it. Thanks for everythin'."

Link really doesn't like the sound of that. It sounds too final (split and part never to meet again). He's tired of things ending, not because he wants the things he's lived through to last forever, but because he's tired of the _finality_ of it all. Zelda sending him back in time with scarcely a goodbye, life in Termina continuing on as if he hadn't been there at all... It's a triumph that life can go back to normal, but he can't just go back to normal.

No matter what, he can't redo the past. Even with the Ocarina of Time _and_ the Song of Time, he can't undo what he's done.

"Link..." Mikau apparently knows where he's going with that line of thought. "I was barely hangin' on when you found me, and I kinda deserved it. I rushed on in without thinkin', and the pirate chicks got me good." All the while, Mikau continues to play his song, melancholy and rhythmic, the notes floating over the sound of waves. "Never thought I'd say this, but I agree with Darmi. I'm glad I could help.

"And since I know you're gonna bring it up, it's like I said earlier. This is almost perfect, bein' like this. As long as I can see the Bay here and there, I'm good to go wherever. Just not much of those stupid dry canyons, okay?"

Link laughs a little at that. _I'll try not to stay there long._

"Good. 'Sides, someone needs to keep you company, and all that old boulder's gonna do is be all serious and stoic. A dude's gotta have fun here and there, or he ends up forgettin' how to live, y'know?"

_I'm not sure I really know how to live_.

"Seriously? Dude, how can you not know? Someone like you, savin' the world?" Mikau sighs heavily. "Maybe that's why you can do it. You don't realize what you're missin'."

_I know what I'm missing_, Link protests weakly. _But, um... That's for normal people. I'm not normal._

Mikau sighs again. "You got me there, little dude."

Of course he does. How many grown men could do what he (they) has done? Even now, months later, he's a child to many. A child who became a man who became a child again, a man who wielded sacred steel and a child who helped destroy a moon, but normal people don't see that part of him, do they? They only know the strange boy in green, some as a boy with no parents and others as a little swordsman.

Even Mikau calls him little.

"It's not 'cause you're a kid. It's 'cause you're short. You and Oakin are both little compared to Darmi and me, so you're 'little dude'. Y'know, not like that Stalfos from the graveyard; he's a _big_ dude."

Link sighs. _I'm being selfish, Mikau. You should be enjoying yourself, not trying to make me feel better._

"What if I wanna? It's cool, Link. I got to see the guys and Lu, and you've already said this ain't goodbye forever. And I kinda like hangin' out with you. We never really got to talk like this before."

_It's still hard to believe_. He feels kind of crazy, honestly.

"Lots of stuff's hard to believe," Mikau replies, pausing his song. "Everythin' with Majora, for one. But we did it, somehow, and now everyone's nice and safe, and we can sit here watchin' the sunset without a care in the world. Want me to play you a lullaby, little dude?"

_I didn't think you knew any._

"Well, I can always use that song the Goron Elder taught us..." Mikau laughs. "Kiddin'! I dunno any lullabies, but I know a song or two that should help you rest, anyway. So, just sit back and relax, and let me play you a good song."

That's exactly what Mikau does, and between the gentle melody and the rhythmic waves, it doesn't take Link long to drift off to sleep again.

When he wakes up, it's morning, and all he can hear are the waves and the distant calls of seagulls. He sits up -- or he starts to, anyway; he stops when something falls from his chest to the sand beside him. It's Mikau's mask. Link picks it up and brushes the sand off of it before climbing to his feet and glancing along the shore. They must have moved at some point; he's not on the secluded section of beach he was on last night. Now he's not very far from the lab.

Time to go, he guesses. Then again... next stop is the canyon, and he knows Mikau's view of that (dry, dusty, dead)... He's not really in any hurry, he decides.

Besides, neither he nor Mikau went fishing yesterday, and it's a long trip (even though he'll fly to save the climb up to the canyon). Link laughs to himself and starts towards the lab. The professor probably has a fishing pole he can borrow for a while, especially if he offers to share his catch.

He'll have to ask Mikau what the best tasting fish around here are. Maybe he can even catch one of Mikau's favorite kind.

Heroes gotta stick together, after all.


	4. East: Ikana Canyon

**Compass  
East - Ikana Canyon**

_The canyon at Stone Tower lies this way. Be careful._

Ikana Canyon is even more empty and desolate now than it was when he first came here a year ago. Most of the restless dead have been given peace, and even Paula and her father have moved back towards Clock Town. There's no one here anymore but the Garo, and the Garo talk to no one without a challenge. (The information they have isn't really worth the price.) The Garo, at least, don't leave corpses to become Gibdos.

The Music Box House stands silent and empty; the little creek still flows, but something holds the wheel in place. It doesn't matter. There aren't any Gibdos left to keep away with the music.

The Stalfos that once wandered the graveyard at night have all gone on -- no, have all been _sent_ on -- to the afterlife. Link remembers that night; how could he forget gathering them all up for an announcement from their "captain"? He remembers how they watched him with empty, dead eyes. He remembers how they snapped to attention and saluted and cheered and then crumbled into dust when he gave them all permission to take their final leave.

Their war is over.

Their Ikana is over.

A song echoes in his head, over and over; empty, hollow notes seem to resonate within him, carrying with them everything that is and was Ikana. Somehow, he thinks it fitting that the song he learned within the canyon is an elegy.

The wind is dry and dusty, seeming to carry the chill of the grave with it as it grabs at his tunic and hat and hair. He can almost hear it demanding _why are you here? There is no room in Ikana for the living anymore. _

That's not to say no one lives in Ikana, because people do. They just all stay near the mouth of the canyon, closer to Clock Town than the ruins of the Castle of Ikana or the great Stone Tower. Here, here in the heart of Ikana Canyon, no one dares tread.

Except him.

He makes his way across the dusty ground and into the ancient castle. The rooms are empty. Even the traps have crumbled into rubble. The song in his head -- his soul -- gets louder with every step he takes, until he finds himself in the massive chamber where he fought the king.

The afternoon sun filters in the naked windows, casting long fingers of light down onto the stone floor. The throne stands empty on its dais; the banners that surely once bore the standard of Ikana are tattered, their pattern faded. The entire chamber seems to have aged much, much more than a single year.

Link pulls out his ocarina, and he plays Ikana's Elegy. The familiar magic wraps around him and then anchors itself to the ground; he steps out of it, away from his shell, but he does not turn to face it.

A soldier who will never betray him. A soldier with no heart. A soldier with no soul.

The masks are as silent as he is as he dons each one in turn, playing the Elegy again and again until there is a line of soulless soldiers standing in the center of the chamber, one for each of his alternate forms. His fingers linger against the Fierce Deity's Mask, but then he unpacks it as well. It's him even as it isn't him; it deserves its place in the line, in his army of shells.

He then carefully packs away the masks and his ocarina, and only then does he turn and face the line.

The shells -- unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing, _unliving _-- stare through him with soulless gazes. Oakin, Darmani, Mikau... He looks at each of their shells (or rather, the shells of each of them-plus-Link) before turning his attention towards the other two. He's never seen the Fierce Deity before, merely quick flickers of hair and what he could see of his own clothing while he wore the mask (battle isn't the time for vanity or even curiosity). The Fierce Deity is tall, head and shoulders over Darmani and Mikau, and though the shell is still mighty-looking enough to be somewhat intimidating, it's still nothing more than a magical shell.

(The boy-hero could destroy the god-warrior with just a simple thought.)

He turns his attention to his own shell, taking in the details he's been ignoring. His hair is longer -- he should probably cut it. His limbs and fingers are getting longer, lankier, more adult-like, and his face is more angular than it was last time he looked at his shell. He reaches up to feel his own face; he isn't entirely convinced that he's looking at _himself._ He feels like a stranger in his own body. Not a boy, not quite a man... His body is as confused (trapped) as his mind.

He remembers what he looked like when he was an adult. The strangest part, he thinks, is that he can see part of that man in his shell's face.

That shouldn't be such a strange thought, really. In a way, it's comforting to know how he's going to look, but... before, as the Hero of Time, he slept through all of this. He was a child, and then he was a man. He skipped all of this awkwardness. He sits down at his shell's feet and sighs. Will he really look the same as he did in that other time? He isn't sure. He feels different, here in this different world. Maybe he'll age differently, too.

That's a stupid thing to think. Why would there be any difference? He's still Link. He's just not in Hyrule now. (He's not the man he used to be. He's not the boy he used to be.) He groans softly and slaps his face, trying to chase away that thought. It doesn't make sense.

The thought doesn't go away; it keeps repeating itself over and over in his mind. The castle's empty except for him and his shells, and they're not talking, so there's nothing to drown out the sound.

It doesn't take long before he can't take his own thoughts anymore. He slams his hands against the cold stone and screams, long and loud, his voice echoing off the walls.

"Who am I?"

There isn't an answer, only the silence settling back in to fill the void left by the fading echoes. Maybe there isn't an answer at all. He doesn't know who he is or even _what_ he is anymore. He is Link, but... (what is Link?)

He falls onto his side and curls up, wrapping his arms around his knees. No one has an answer for him, do they? He's all alone.

..._but you're never alone._

Link scowls at that. Who said that?

_Who else could it be?_

He looks up, but he doesn't see anyone. There's no one here but himself and the shells... wait, is that who's talking to him? But how? He's not wearing any of the masks, and the shells themselves can't talk. Besides, the voices sound like they're in his head somehow. Shouldn't he have to wear the masks to hear them speak?

_Come, Link. Can you stand?_

He's completely lost it, he thinks. Maybe he's been getting crazier and crazier this whole time, and he's just now realizing it. He shifts until he's on his knees, looking up at the line of shells. They're magic, just magic, but now he finds himself expecting one or another to blink or breathe or move.

_Stand._ The word is snarled, like a command.

He grits his teeth and does just that. As he moves, his sword and shield shift against his back as if reminding him that they're still there where they always are. He's a swordsman; that much is certain. He has a sword, and he knows how to use it, though he's too humble to admit that he's better than men twice his age. (None can best him; few can equal him.)

Link draws his sword and holds it up; the golden blade catches the dim light and gleams. Fighting is really the only thing he's good for anymore. How is he any different from the people who were here?

Sharp's words ring in his ears, _"You who do not fear the dead..."_ Why doesn't he? Everyone else does; everyone else, both here and in Hyrule... they're afraid of Poes and run from Stalfos, but he...

"Why do I have to be so different?" Is it because he's some Chosen Hero? What if he didn't _want_ to be the hero; what then? He could've refused. Maybe he should have. He shakes his head in irritation -- no, he couldn't. He could never walk away from someone who needed help.

There's a sharp laugh, harsh and almost mocking, deep in his mind, and he growls at the sound. "Shut _up_!" He thrusts his sword towards the line of shells. "I don't care what you think!"

_...you don't?_ It's Oakin's voice. The Deku sounds scared and hurt.

"That's not..." Link flops back onto the floor, letting his sword fall. "I don't know, Oakin. I just don't know anything anymore." He's going crazy. He has ghosts in his head and he's going _crazy_.

_Tch, c'mon, little dude. If you can worry 'bout it, you're not goin' crazy._

It's not that simple, is it? Nothing's that simple. Everything is complicated by a thousand details no one can see or know, and magic is even stranger than he ever thought. Masks are supposed to just be _masks_, not like this.

_Through fate or chance, things are as they are. We can either accept them or fight them, but nothing changes the inevitable. _

Link looks over at his sword and sighs heavily. "Just like everything. What if I didn't want to be like this? What if I just wanted to be normal?"

No one answers. Of course they don't. He isn't sure there is an answer. He can't be normal, not after the things he's seen (touched by light and darkness and divinity alike). He just wishes he knew what to do. Being here like this just shows him how lost he is. He knows battle and quests and exploration, not anything useful.

_Perhaps you can keep traveling. People might still need help._

_Might? There's always someone needin' help._

"You think so?"

_Yeah. You helped lots of people before, remember?_

Link nods slowly. He's helped a lot of people, both during his quests and after them, but... Adults have jobs. Even he knows that. Adults are fishermen or innkeepers or ranchers or _something_. Wandering around helping people isn't a job, is it?

Then again, there are traveling merchants. He wouldn't be that different, would he? Besides, even if Majora is gone and everyone's moving on from a year ago, people are still people. There are still men like Sakon causing trouble for others. They won't change how they are just because the moon isn't falling.

Another sharp laugh, though not mocking this time, rings through his head. _Then go._

He reaches over and retrieves his sword, sliding it back into his sheath. (Why doesn't it ever feel heavy?) The voice, harsh but not entirely merciless, makes it sound so simple, but he's not convinced.

Nothing he's done since he left Kokiri Forest so many months (years) ago has ever been simple. Link climbs slowly to his feet, brushing the dust off his legs, and then he gives each of the five shells a final look. The shells themselves have no souls; they're just magic.

The _masks_, now... They may be magical, but there's so much more inside that wood than mere magic. There are souls -- skills and memories and voices and more than he'd thought was even possible.

His gaze lingers on the god's shell. Oakin, Darmani, Mikau... each of them was alive once. They were people; he can relate to them. But the god is something completely foreign; Link just can't understand what he wants or how he thinks.

Link sighs. No, not here. This isn't the place for that. This is the place for the dead and the boy who doesn't fear them. He shakes his head. The Carnival will be starting soon, so if he wants to see it, he should go.

From a castle of the dead to a city ready for a festival (death to life, stagnation to burning passion), now there's a change.

He finally turns away from the row of shells and to walk outside the castle. He doesn't look back; there's no reason for him to. He's carrying plenty of the canyon in his heart.

Ikana should be the last stop on his journey, or so he thought. Now, though, he knows there's somewhere else he needs to go. He just wishes he knew what will happen when he gets there. No one knows the future, he thinks to himself. No one does.

That's never bothered him before; why does it now? (Ghosts in his head and a god twined round his soul and can he even call himself human anymore?)

Link sighs again. It doesn't matter. All he can do is keep going, one step after another, just like he always has. He's already done things others said were impossible; why should he care what others call him?

"I'm going now," he says, though he's not quite sure if he's talking to himself or the spirits of the masks or the castle. In the end, he supposes it doesn't matter.

For now, he's heading back to Clock Town. He'll figure the rest out when he gets there.


	5. Center: The Clock Tower

_Author's Notes: Here we are, the final chapter. To answer a question I'm sure someone will ask: this is the end of this story, but there will most likely be another story taking place after this one. I have a hard time putting this idea down for long. Thanks for reading, everyone, and another thank you to all of you who've reviewed._

* * *

**Compass**  
**Center - The Clock Tower**

_If there's even a small part of you that believes the moon could be falling, you should leave town immediately._

Everything - his quest to stop the moon, his quest to let his masks find some peace (and, he's come to realize, let _him_ find some peace, too), all of the nightmares and all of the joy - begins and ends at the Clock Tower. The massive clock never slows, never stops. It stands in the center of Clock Town, in the center of all of Termina; the Tower is tall enough to be seen over the tall, tall city wall.

The first sound he heard when he reached Termina was the ticking of that massive clock. When he called the Giants to catch the moon, it was from atop that very clock.

Link looks up at the clock and sighs. He's gotten used to it over the last year. At one point, it confused him. Why is the tallest structure in town, the center of the town itself, a giant clock? He still isn't entirely sure why it is, but he knows that's just how Termina is. Termina is much more focused on the passing of time than he remembers Hyrule being. Even though he's basically given up on finding his way back to Hyrule, he still compares the worlds. He doesn't want to forget Hyrule. It may not be his home anymore, but he's still connected to it.

Someone laughs not far away, and there's music nearby; the sounds finally pull him out of his thoughts. From where he stands at the gate, he can see people filling the streets. Link looks up at the clock again, this time to read it. It's after eleven; no wonter the streets are so busy. It won't be long until the fireworks signal the proper start of the Carnival.

A lot of the people he sees have masks with them, though he doubts they're magical. If he remembers what Anju's grandmother told him right, it's tradition to wear masks during the Carnival. Masks and costumes and other forms...

(_Awake me._)

Link slips through the crowd easily, looking for somewhere away from the people. He finds it at the laundry pool. He can still hear the growing commotion, but he isn't paying it much mind. Instead, he reaches inside his pack and pulls out the one mask with a spirit he hasn't worn lately. The Fierce Deity's mask hums in his hands, just as it always does (_accept my power and don me, boy_), but he doesn't put it on yet.

He isn't sure he wants to at all. True, the one time he's worn it outside of battle, the god seemed perfectly content to rest, but there are so many people here. Maybe he shouldn't have come back to town for this - except no, this is where he _should_ be. It was from the clock tower that he entered the moon to face Majora, the tower that set off the chain of events that led to him being given and then wearing the mask in the first place.

He walks over to the edge of the water, holding the mask up enough to see what he'd look like if it was just an ordinary mask. His reflection is creepy, blood-red and sky-blue, and is his skin as pale as the mask when he wears it? Link lowers the mask and stares down at it. Do those marks mean anything in particular?

There's an impatient growl in his head.

"I thought I was imagining you," he says softly. "Even after what happened with the others," even after deciding that maybe he isn't crazy, "I didn't think you could be real."

His left arm twitches, raising the mask towards his face slightly. He wants to say it's just a random twitch, but there's a purpose to it that sends a shiver down his spine.

"You can't control me."

_Nor you me,_ comes the answer, strong and defiant.

Link holds the mask up and out, over the water. "I can throw you away if I want."

It's an empty threat. He can't simply cast it aside. The mask has too much power to leave laying around where someone else might find it, and besides, he... He pulls the mask back towards himself, holding it against his chest. Why can't he? He can't throw it away, sure, but he knows dozens of secret places in Termina. He could pick any one of them and hide the mask away forever.

Why does that thought make him feel sick?

"What are you doing to me?"

_Magic alters what it touches, often in unknown ways. _There's a pause and a strange sense of pride. _You're the first to survive me_. _I wonder why that is so..._

Link flops down to the grass. The others, he thinks. That's why. Majora forced him to take Oakin's form, and then he had to take Darmani and Mikau's to stop Goht and Gyorg... He swallows hard. By the time Majora gave him the god's mask, he already knew how to yield but not yield, how to become someone else yet still remain himself.

The god laughs, sharp and sudden and harsh. _There is more to it than that. Put the mask on._

Link takes a deep breath. "Promise you won't hurt anyone?"

_Do you not trust yourself to stop me?_

He doesn't even know anymore. Link takes another deep breath and stares down at the mask for a long moment. Then he puts it on.

When the transformation is finished, he lowers his head and looks at his reflection in the water. This isn't like the god's shell. Standing like this, the god looks like him. His face (their face) bears the same angular features he remembers from when he was an adult, though the marks and empty white eyes make those features seem harsher and much more dangerous. (The sum of parts, Link-plus-god; why is it so much like him?)

_What's wrong?_ The god seems amused.

"You look like me," Link says softly. His voice is deep and strong; did he sound like this when he was grown? Maybe he did. He doesn't remember.

_Of course I do_.

Link kneels by the water. He has fangs; why does he have those? He doesn't have claws; his skin looks a little paler, but still like a man's. In fact, he looks almost normal, except that he's weirdly tall and has those creepy white eyes and fangs. (A man, yet not a man at all.)

_You seem a bit disappointed_.

"I thought a god would look different." Though he isn't really sure what a god is supposed to look like in the first place. The Giants are, well, giants, and he's never seen the goddesses, and if Majora was a god, Link won't admit it.

The god in his head laughs again. _Some of us are more human than others_.

There's a pop from nearby, followed by cheers. The fireworks must be starting. Link walks to the top of the ramp, far enough to still be away from people, but close enough to see the fireworks. They flicker and gleam and shine, flashes of brilliant color burning against the dark sky before fading into nothing. (Burn, die, fade.)

_The tower is open; do you wish to climb?_

"They'll see us," Link hisses.

_No. They will see _me.

He doesn't get a chance to protest. He feels himself start walking easily through the crowds, passing through them almost as if they weren't there. No one seems to particularly notice, but then again, with all of the people in costumes and ornate masks, they don't realize how unusual he is, do they?

His boots are heavy against the wood as he (they) climbs the stairs, and when he reaches the top, the world seems to go silent. The massive clock isn't ticking. (It wasn't then, either, but the moon was more important.) It's strange being up here like this. There's no moon looming over him, no Majora cackling evilly, no sense of urgency. A gentle breeze and the songs of the people below are the only sounds he hears.

He turns in place on the clock, looking out at the horizon and ticking off the places as he sees them. The swamp, the bay, the mountains, the canyon; there's the start of the Milk Road, and there's the observatory. It all looks kind of fragile from up here.

_It requires protection,_ the god whispers in his head. _There will always be those who seek to destroy it_.

"What about you?"

_What about me?_

"Do you seek to destroy it?"

For a moment, there's no answer. Link can sense somehow that the god is thinking. _Do _you_ seek to destroy it?_

(Deflection.)

"Why would I want to? I like this place."

_As do I._

"But the way you fight..."

_I fight the way I fight. I am called fierce for a reason._ A chuckle. _You are the boy swordsman, correct? _

"I'm not a boy!" Link snarls, and for the moment, he's right. Nothing about him right now is a child.

The god laughs, long and proud. _No, you are not. No mere _boy_ could withstand my power, yet you have done it more than once. You do it even now._ As if to reinforce that, there's a tug at his awareness, hard enough to notice, but it isn't enough to claim control.

"I'm tired of people seeing me as a boy."

_People see what people see; it is their folly. _

For a while, neither says anything. The sounds of the crowd get closer; others are climbing the tower as well. Link expects people to start or jump when they see him, but still no one seems to care overmuch about the tall man in armor. He doesn't understand.

_As I said, it is their folly. We could kill them all right now, and by the time any of these fools realized what was happening, it would be too late._

"No," Link whispers. "I won't let you."

_And if I truly chose to do so? Could you stop me?_ It's a challenge; the god's thoughts seem to move closer to his own.

"I would, and I will." Link reaches inward to the part of him that isn't him and yanks. "This is my body."

The god laughs at that and yanks back. It catches Link off guard, pulling his awareness back towards the god's. (In control yet out of control, being held, being watched over...) _Is it now?_

"It is," he says, though he's not sure if it's words or just a thought.

_Right now you wear my form, not yours._

"It's my body. Without me, you'd still just be a mask!"

_What did you say earlier? Oh, yes, that's right..._ the god's presence wraps itself around Link's; the god laughs. _You said you could cast me away at any moment. Then do it._

Link reaches up and finds the edge of the mask; his fingers feel almost numb, and it's like trying to feel through thick cloth. "Maybe I will."

_Maybe you won't_.

Link slides his fingers along the edge of the mask. It would be so easy to pull it off right now, even with the crowd around him. But he doesn't.

_Hesitation is dangerous._

"This isn't a battle."

_Oh?_

"You know you can't win. You aren't fighting me." Link lowers his hands; he knows _he_ can't win either. (For the first time ever, he has met a warrior he can't best.)

The god laughs again. _As courageous as ever, I see. Suppose I am merely biding my time; you should be careful what you assume about my power. _

"Why is that?"

_I can break you, just as I have broken all who tried to claim my power_.

(No one can break him. He's traveled through time; he's watched the world die.)

"I don't want your power."

_Then what is it that you _do _want?_

Link closes his eyes and sighs. "I don't know."

The people around him start singing; he closes his eyes. Call the Giants from atop the clock tower... Will they come? Termina isn't in danger this year.

_Would you rather it was?_

No, it's not like that. It's merely that when the world's in danger is when the people need someone like him. There's nothing for him right now. "You don't need a warrior when the world's at peace."

The god chuckles darkly. _Which is why Clock Town has guards stationed around town at all times_.

"I'm not a guard."

_No, you are not. Their presence is proof that peace does not equal perfect safety._

He starts walking, or maybe it's the god making him walk. He doesn't know, nor does he care. He climbs down the tower and walks back through the crowds and out the southern gate; the guard doesn't even glance his way. He stops on the grass and turns back to town, looking up at the moon-less sky.

And he remembers there's a reason he's wearing the god's mask. "What do you want to do?"

He gets no answer. Still, Link feels like he needs to do this, so he takes a deep breath, slowly blows it out, and then he lets go.

It's almost dawn when something nudges his awareness and wakes him. He (the god within him) is atop the clock tower again, though the crowd seems to have disappeared. The eastern sky is covered in swaths of pale colors. It's pretty, really. He's never seen the sun rise from here.

The sun peeks above the distant horizon, and as dawn's light creeps down the tower and the city walls, he hears a hundred voice cheer. That's right; one year ago exactly, the moon crumbled to dust in the Giants' hands as Majora was sent back into its wooden prison.

_A whole year..._

"Merely a year," the god says softly.

_For me, it's a long time._

"For you, yes. For the people here, yes. For Termina and myself, it isn't."

Link almost asks how old the god is, but no. If the god wants to tell (can tell), he'll share. Instead, Link asks, _Did you do what you wanted to?_

"No."

_Why not?_

"This night I spent watching, not fighting."

_All you want to do is fight?_

"That is what I know. I am a warrior."

Link sighs. _So am I. That doesn't mean I live every moment of my life preparing for the next fight._

For a moment, it seems the god is ignoring him. "Then how do you live?"

_I live, that's all_.

The god walks towards the edge of the clock, looking down at the people starting to fill the streets again, singing an energetic song. "Show me."

That confuses Link. _Show you what?_

"This is a carnival, yes?" The god heads for the stairs. "What do you do during a carnival?"

_Well..._ Link hasn't been to many. Really, the only one was last year's Carnival. He remembers playing games and listening to stories and eating sweetcake. He made sure Kafei spent the rest of the Carnival with confetti in his hair, and somehow Romani convinced him to dance. (She is so much better than he is.)

_You're supposed to have fun._

"I see." The god stops at the entrance to the tower, reaching up for the edge of the mask.

_What are you doing?_

"Show me your fun." And with that, the god pulls off the mask. There's a strange yanking sensation and a wave of dizziness as Link is pushed forward and given control. He falls against the side of the tower for a moment, but it quickly passes.

He looks down at the mask in his hand, now well aware of the presence still in his mind. (Not in the mask where it should be, no; it's in his head, watching through his eyes.) It should scare him, he knows.

But it doesn't. (He's shared his mind, shared his body, maybe even shared his soul. This is no different.)

"Okay, um..." Link slides the mask back into his pack so it won't get damaged or lost, and then he looks around at the growing crowds. He isn't really sure where to start.

So he sits down and watches as the Carnival gets into full swing. There are Deku merchants hawking all kinds of strange wares, a few Zora manning what looks like a shooting gallery, and there are several Gorons running some kind of wrestling game. And there are people everywhere, playing games and telling stories and dancing and singing and just generally being _happy_.

Link likes seeing everyone like this.

There's a wordless question in his head, but he doesn't mind. He already knows the question. And, he thinks, hopping off the platform he'd been sitting on, he knows the answer, too.

"You'd better pay attention," he says with a laugh, and then he heads off in search of something fun.

_I am watching._

(Always watching.)


End file.
